


Only Human

by mixomixo



Category: Avengers (Comic), Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes, Marvel
Genre: Angst, Bickering, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-23
Updated: 2011-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:35:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixomixo/pseuds/mixomixo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a battle to save the city against Loki the god of Mischief, the most human of the Avengers takes a hit he can't walk away from.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breathe, you asshole.

'In retrospect... that could've gone better.' Were some of the last of Tony Stark's thoughts before he hit the asphalt. Hard. The ground gave way beneath his armored suit, but there was only so much impact he could take without actually feeling it. The god of mischief shrieked with laughter from his airborne position several hundred feet above the ground. The Avengers had arrived to meet this threat, but with Hulk gone and the various other Avengers shuffled around the world, it was left to Tony, Thor and Clint to manage things here in New York. A god against two men and his own brother, who seemed reluctant to take a stand. Tony groaned as the auxiliary power flooded to his suit, casting him in an orange glow within his personal mech armor. He stood up slowly, the heavy casing weighing him down now that he was starting to feel his legs ache. Anyone who said he wasn’t fighting fair because of his suit had never been in an airplane grade aluminum microwave form fit to their own body. He turned his sights upwards just in time to see Hawkeye get taken down with a blast of some sort and fall a couple of stories.

"Fuck." he muttered to himself.

"Thor!" Tony's mask pealed back mechanically as he hit the boot jets and glided into the sky with apparent ease, but he could feel his shins shaking in agony as the thrusters boosted him up. He probably fractured both of them, but due to supports he couldn’t know for sure until later. "We need your help, buddy!" he shouted over the sounds of turbulent winds caused by the disruption of all these gods on earth. "I can't do this alone and Hawkeye is down, I need to check that. Go! Go! Go!" he shouted and pointed. That seemed to work, whatever it was keeping Thor down immediately shifted and the blonde went flying into the air, sending a shockwave that toppled Tony backwards into some rubble. Not hard, though. His mask rolled back closed and immediately he was up and headed towards the parking structure where Clint landed.

The landing hurt. More than the thrusters. He walked like a polio patient for a few feet after he landed. After a few finger movements his mask was set for heat signatures in the dark 4th level of the parking garage. "Hawkeye!" he called out, following a trail of what looked like negative temperature readings on the heat scanner. He flipped back his mask and charged through a hole in the wall, not reading anything but the tiniest heat signature. "Ah fuck, Clint.." he mumbled as he saw the purple leathers come into view. Snapped arrows littered around the partially frostbitten frame of Hawkeye, who had been blasted through at least six feet of Concrete with a frost spell of a Jotunn sorcerer. Immediately Tony was at Clint's side, checking him for any badly broken bones. None that he could tell, but the frozen bits of his skin were as purple as the bruises, so there was no way to tell. "You hear me, Clint?" He asked, somewhat panicked. He couldn’t lose a teammate, not today..

"Fuck off Stark." came the weak reply. Tony couldn't help but laugh and dropped down next to him, the suit peeling back from his arms and face like paper. Clint's eyes rolled in their sockets before returning to glare at Tony roughly. "Leave. Go get Loki.." the effort in saying even that much left Hawkeye shaking in exhaustion, not to mention the freezing chills that wracked his body every few minutes.

"Barton, you shit, are you alive under all that ice?" He pressed his hands to Hawkeye's hands. It was a warm 78 degrees in the city, and that combined with the circulation of heat in the Iron Man suit made Tony just above normal body temperature. For lack of wanting to overheat Clint, he figured he could use his hands to help most of the problem, though Hawkeye would need a hospital sooner than later.

"I think Thor's got this one, Pal." As though on cue an insanely loud and bright lightning strike came flooding down from the sky a few feet outside of the craterous hole in the parking structure, bringing everything within to light. Tony jumped, standing up and walking over to the entry hole in the wall of the building. Watching Thor and Loki fight in the air was like some sort of firework show. You couldn’t see where they were until they clashed, then there was just an eruption of light. A flash shot down quicker than his eyes could follow and pegged Tony square in the chest. He tumbled once more backward into the dark. It was hard to breathe now. He twitched his fingers and activated a closing sequence for the suit. Once the chesplate had shifted he gasped for air. 'great, broken rib to add to the list.' He looked down and saw how bent the armor was. 'better make that four.' The suit crumpled inwardly, folding down to a suitcased sized box, which Tony dropped at Hawkeyes feet, helping him sit up more comfortably. Tony was certain his left ankle was broken, and probably a nice chip out of his right shin. He hobbled over behind Clint and wrapped his arms around him, gingerly as to not injure himself further, but if nothing else he could be a hot compress for his teammate.

"I already called an ambulance, so don't worry, we don’t need to get gay for long." He chuckled and just pressed himself against Clint in a hug. Friction was bad for frostbite, that much he knew, and it was too warm to risk refreezing the wounds, so as gay as it was, just spooning would probably help both of them. Clint coughed and tried to move in protest, his crackling in places as he did so, totally frozen solid.

"Don't fucking move, shit for brains, You gotta melt off some of this ice first." Tony scolded, placing his hands, which were exuding heat like individual ovens due to the large amount of bruising on every inch of his skin, and the large amount of alcohol he had consumed hours earlier. He leaned back to check the back of Clint’s head and noticed a trickle of partially frosted over blood start to roll. He gently shook Clint’s shoulders, “Alright, you got a bump on the back of your head, so.. You probably got a concussion.” He put an arm around Clint’s chest to feel his breathing. It was still shallow. Clint coughed which rocked his torso painfully.

“Shut up Stark. Seriously.”

“I’m not gonna shut up because you need to keep talking, I don’t want you passing out on me, that’s the last thing that would be good for you.” Tony replied smirking. If he could start bickering with Hawkeye, they’d be fine until the ambulance got there.

“Fuck that.” Came a raspy but forceful response. “I'm tired, I'm freezing, I'm starving .. I can't feel my legs, can't even move my arms .. I'd die for some hot coffee .. and a subway, or just a sandwich, its fucking cold, your breath stinks, you have a horrible haircut, did i ever tell you that ? and you should be .. out there .. helping Thor and .. not here, I’m so cold, goddamnit .. “He sniffed, Tony knew his nose was probably gushing blood now as his blood started to unfreeze. The cooled organs in his body could be a problem, Tony realized as he heard Clint’s speech get quieter. He was still in shock and didn’t realize he ran a very good risk of dying today.

“Fuck, Clint keep bitching. Clint?” He leaned forward and tried to see his face. “Oh fuckety fuck fuck.” He gently pulled himself from behind his friend and laid him down on his back in the crevasse he had made, pressing ear to his chest. “Fuck FUCK! Don’t you goddamn fucking die!” He yelled as he immediately pressed his hands to Clint’s chest and pumped. Cracked ribs. Tony felt pain shooting through his chest as he pressed down roughly. Both of them would be feeling that tomorrow. He gave him a few more rough shoves and didn’t think twice about it. He squeezed closed Clint’s nose which was expelling blood more and more rapidly as it went on, and pressed his lips to the icy ones below him, heaving as much air as his lungs could hold into his friend. After a few attempts Clint coughed into Tony’s mouth, making him gag at a small flood of spit, blood and god knows what else that Clint coughed up. He spit it out and looked back at Clint's face, searching the iced and sliced skin for any sort of visible reaction.

“You taste like shit.” Came back the weak, annoyed reply.


	2. You're gonna be okay.

Tony looked somewhat alarmed but broke in laughter as Clint bitched at him. "Yeah well, sorry if my first priority wasn’t to pop a tic-tac first." He spat again, his mouth still tasting wretched like blood and snot. "You could've warned me before barfing in my mouth." He retorted softly, looking over Clint's prone form as violent shiver ran through it. Clint shut his eyes as the shiver was joined by a violent and bloody coughing fit. He spat out crimson saliva that trickled down his chin and groaned.

"Wasn' .. planning on it," he muttered, lips speckled with blood and chin covered in red. He sniffed hard but the flow of blood hadn't stopped one bit and his entire face looked like a bad advertisment for a horror movie. Tony would laugh if he werent so concerned. It was on him now, to save his teammate, it was his mistake that let him get shot down in the first place. He oozed concern, his hands hovering over Clint's torso, not sure entirely what to do.

"Can you tell me if anything’s not broken? I assume that'd be easier..."

"I .. " Clint stammered in response, he opened his eyes halfway as though intently focusedon figuring out which of his bones weren't broken. "Can't feel... anything.." The man smacked his lips and swallowed thickly as the sour taste of blood filled his throat. "M' face's not broken."

Tony slid a hand around his jaw, tilting his head back gently to try to stem the flow of blood. "Try to stop bleeding for me, alright cowboy?" he asked.

"Sure .. let me jus'.. close the valves, chief," Clint's lips twitched lightly into a lazy smile. His shallow breathing slowed down a bit and his eyes fluttered closed.

His mind reeled at the idea of Clint joking at a time like this but smiled back, sliding closer in and brushing his hand down Clint's cheek in a comforting gesture with his thumb. "You're gonna be fine."

He stayed quiet for a few seconds and then closed his eyes, "No, 'm not."

Tony pressed his lips together between his teeth and looked around, somewhat frantic in his actions. "Okay, here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna pick you up and we're gonna go to the hospital, Okay? I can’t see anything intact enough to give you a gurney, so we're just gonna have to wing it. This is gonna suck later, but if you really can't feel anything.." He trailed off, his voice cracking briefly.

"I thought you .. said there was .. an ambulance comin'.. " Clint protested. Tony was sure that moving was the last thing the archer wanted to do.

"You're gonna be fine. You're gonna be back on your feet in a few weeks and kicking my ass for not covering you better back there."

Clint gave a weak chuckle that turned into a coughing that left him gasping breathlessly in pain with fresh blood running down his mouth, "I didn' see it .. comin'," he mumbled. Tony was certain he didn't blame him for not covering him, but Clint was a lot like Tony in that he'd like to take the blame for not being quick enough.  
"My fault for.." he paused to swallow thickly, "Not seein' it.."

"No, man, It was all me." He said, though he knew he wasn't the reason Clint fell, he just hoped maybe Clint would be mad at him for causing him the pain and not be so resigned to it. He leaned down, slipping a hand under Clint's head, cradling his neck and using his other hand to slide Clint's hips towards his knees, being as gentle as possible. He wasn't going to let him die. He couldn't. He stopped pressing on Clint's torso, glancing across the structure to a crack in the wall where he could see smoke all over. His hands shook as his eyes darted around Clint, trying to take in all the damage.

"You're in shock so you don't know what a dick I am." He tried, his voice broke mid-sentence and he cleared his throat, continuing. "I-i-it's totally my bad." He knew that if he moved Clint without getting some sort of board to steady his spine he'd probably be making it worse, and stopped trying.

"Fuckin'.. prick .." Clint spat out, gritting his teeth as his lungs burned with the need to cough again, his wheezing tone made that clear. "I .. hate that .. fucker," he added as he opened his eyes.

"The ambulance ... is coming.. I just think you need to get off your lazy ass and get moving faster." He responded, his eyes welling slightly as he looked around for something, anything to help this situation. Clint's eyes closed as Tony searched, eyebrows knitting in silent agony. His blue-tipped fingers started twitching, not much, but it was clear they were still functional to a point.

Clint exhaled and a corner of his lips twitched upwards, "Give me .. a second." He glanced down at his legs and glanced at Tony, "How's .. the battle goin'?"

Tony looked over Clint and studied his expression, not entirely sure if he should leave Clint alone, but figured he wasn't doing very much to help him at the moment. He struggled to get to his feet, his fractured shins screaming in pain as he did, but he ignored it and tried to look strong just for both their sakes. He struggled along the wall over to look out over the city. His heart sank, smoke was rising from every other building and it looked like some of the main streets in the city were entirely gone, replaced with rubble. He looked on, aghast, as he realized there was no ambulance coming for them, and looked into the sky, searching for any allies. He saw none...


	3. Popsicle Jokes

Tony's stance slackened significantly in disappointment, he narrowed his eyes and saw somewhere way up high two forms facing off. He scowled, the fight continued. A shuddering gasp drew his attention back as Clint slammed his head against the ground in frustration. He evidently reeled from the action and planted down his elbow, dragging himself off the ground with enough effort in the situation to break Tony's heart for being that short distance away. Clint landed on his side just in time to retch out thick, sticky blood. He melted into a puddle of convuslsions and dry heaves.

Tony immediately attempted to rush to Clint's side, his knee giving out from the sheer pain of his fractured shins, a wave of nausea rushing over him aswell from the spike of pain. He stumbled and fell to the ground, glancing back at his unnaturally bent leg, and panted, gritting his teeth as he drug the leg forward and grunted with effort as he reset the bone through his bloodied pant leg. He ripped a shred from his shirt, and bound the bone. The faster he took care of himself the sooner he could focus on what needed to be done with Clint. The other man was doomed if he couldnt do anything to help, so he needed to do at least that.. He dragged his way gingerly back over to Clint's side and ran a hand through his hair, pulling it down the side of his face, still totally uncertain as to what to do.

"Let it out, Buddy.." He said, before realizing it was almost entirely blood. He stroked Clint's back, rubbing his neck tenderly. "They'll be here soon..." Clint's ragged breathing came out fast and desperate as if he couldn't get enough oxygen in despite how hard he tried. He curled up as much as he could, arms bending awkwardly around his torso. His eyes were unfocused on the small pool of red beneath his face where he'd thrown up. He opened his mouth but no words came out. Clint spat out saliva colored pink with the blood still in his mouth and closed his eyes. Tony couldn't stand it anymore. The look on Clint's face tore Tony's stomach into knots.

"Okay hotshot, We're going."

"So .. soon?" More blood dribbled down his chin and his tone made it very clear he really didn't want to move.

"Let’s go. Stop moping around, you're gonna be fine." Tony leaned over from his spot on the floor and yanked on his Iron Man greaves and slid a hand into the remaining gauntlet he had, standing precariously on up on his now re-enforced legs, the pain was exquisite but he knew he had to force himself through it, crouching sent a whole new wave of pain through his body, but he did it anyway and using his free arm wrapped Clint around his torso and pulled him gently onto his knees, throwing Clint's bent arm around his shoulders and pulling. Clint cried out immediately and bit down hard enough on his lower lip to draw blood, turning the scream into a pathetic whimper.

"Stop, stop," he begged, the pain overriding what little self-control he still had. His voice lowered into a pained mantra of 'oh god oh god oh god' over and over again. Tony felt frozen as Clint screamed, pressing his forehead against Clint's jaw in a sort of soothing motion, and his eyes welled up, immediately regretting picking him up.

"We're halfway there." He pleaded, which was true. After that much pain inflicted It'd be stupid to just put him back down at this point. "I should've grabbed you while you were still frozen." He chided himself with an extremely bitter tone, and he took a few careful steps towards the edge of the building.

"This... this is only gonna hurt for a few more minutes, Clint." His voice quivering as he tried to reassure him, certain it was going to hurt a great deal with gravity fighting him and without a secondary stabilizer. Clint's murmuring went back to 'stop' , and Tony took that as sufficient enough motive to get him the rest of the way in a firm grasp. A few tears fell down, mixing with the dirt and blood in Clint's face, his eyes slammed shut as though he was trying to meditate through the agony.

"I .. swear to God .. if you make .." he started, voice shaking and low, "A popsicle joke.. an' I survive .. I'm goin' to .. kill you," he gritted his teeth, "Y'hear me .. Stark? Fuckin'.. kill you .." His tone was clearly wavering, Clint was on the brink of passing into unconsciousness from the pain, and talking, maybe, just maybe could help keep him awake.

"Yeah, we'll see about that, freezer burn, but as it stands, we need to get you to a hospital." Tony's voice cracked again, tears streaming down his face now as he readied himself at the edge of the building. "You keep cursing my name as we go now, Okay? I wanna hear you motherfuck me the whole way there." He nudged Clint's face with his own, pressing his moist cheek against Clint's, pressing a kiss to Clint's face. "You'll be alright, you bastard. Just keep telling me how much of an idiot I am." He took a step forward, the jets igniting on his feet as he stepped off the roof, keeping a somewhat level stance on nothing, shocked by his own ability.

"I .. hate .. hospitals," Clint grunted and cried out again as his body shook from coughing up blood again. "Fuck .. you Stark .." he murmured weakly. "You .. fuckin'.. asshole .. prick .." Clint didn't react to the nudge or the kiss but his mouth kept moving as he muttered out every insult that apparently passed through his mind.

Tony hovered briefly before kicking the boots into a higher gear and lunged forward on the propulsion, trying to keep Clint steady in his arms, he dropped his arm to use the glove steadier, but cringed as he dropped Clint's hand, his face was tear streaked in sweat and dirt from the previous fight as the two careened towards the hospital, people littered the streets surrounding it. Clint's legs and arms moved along like a rag doll as Tony shifted and accelerated. His eyes were half-closed, hazy and unfocused, and he kept muttering off words that no longer made any sense or resembled any word. His words started to fade out after two blocks and by the time they reached the hospital he was no longer conscious.

The ice had melted off most of Clint's frame with the prolonged time exposed to the warm temperature outside and Tony's previous attempt at warming him up so the limbs that had been covered with the hard ice were exposed. Leather had been ripped in several parts and did nothing to cover up nasty bruises and broken skin. The back of his head was bleeding freely now that the iced blow had melted off and his hair was already caked in dry blood and dirt.

Tony choked back a sob as he realized they'd have to land, and he kicked one of his feet forward to allow a bit of force to slow them down and he stopped at a Hover before dropping a foot onto the Hospital's empty helipad. His shins felt like they were erupting and his grasp on Clint almost slipped, but he grabbed Clint's side with his other hand instead of using it to stabilize himself and rolled onto his back, tweaking his leg the wrong direction but cushioning the landing for Clint. His head whacked against the asphalt of the helipad and he was dazed momentarily, his eyes rolling in his head. After a moment of collecting himself he looked down, using his free arm to turn Clint's face towards him, he was out. Tony didn't know whether to be grateful he didn't feel the landing or concerned he'd never be back.


	4. The End.

"HEY." he screamed towards an open hallway on the far side of the platform, he could see people bustling around inside busily. He tried to lift Clint off him before realizing the tumble dislocated his shoulder, he scowled and squirmed to, pulling Clint with him towards the door.

"Hello! Nurse! Get the fuck out here!" his voice cracked again, and he exhaled in frustration. One nurse looked at him like she had seen a ghost, gestured and ran off. Tony's eyes burst with tears, and he dropped his face against the ground, sobbing somewhat openly for a few moments. There was minutes left before he knew Clint would make it.. but as of right now he wasn't sure. He glanced down back to Clint's face and he slapped him gently and repetitively on the cheek, before striking one last time roughly.

"Wake up Sleeping Beauty. It's time to move." He tried, shouting as best as he could. Clint's response was immediate and caused Tony to choke on another sob, this time of delight. Clint's eyes fluttered open and rolled around until they landed on Tony, unfocused for a few seconds before they narrowed lightly with recognition. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he muttered out, low and very ragged-

"Tony." His fingers twitched with the need to touch the man but twitching was all they could do, he still didn't have enough strength in his arm to lift it. "Hey," he mouthed, dry bloody lips falling into a faint smile. "Prick." His eyes closed shut again and his head fell limp against his shoulder. Tony practically slunk down beside the other man, his arm snaking around his shoulders and drawing him into a weak embrace.

"Hey." He responded weakly, pressing his forehead against Clint's. He shut his eyes for what felt like an instant and when he opened them he saw Clint's gurney being pulled into the hospital. He shoved past the nurse, struggling to his feet, but collapsed a moment later as he felt a loud snap ring in his ears from his leg twisting the wrong way.

"Wait." He croaked, reaching out towards Clint's gurney that was being pulled away, his ears were ringing with pain and he couldn't hear any of her questions, he grabbed her by the coat and narrowed his eyes. "Take me with him." He managed, his throat dry and hoarse. She declined and he had the instinct to hit her, but dropped his hand. "Now." he commanded, his voice significantly more raspy but authoritative. The nurse looked somewhat indignant but folded, grabbing a nearby wheelchair and bringing it to him. He struggled into it. The nurse pushed him in after. God only knew what was going to happen in there but Tony knew he needed to be there.


End file.
